


Long Story, Cut Short

by Euphrasia



Category: Forever (TV)
Genre: F/M, Friendship, Gen, Reveal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-21
Updated: 2016-07-21
Packaged: 2018-07-25 18:49:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 16,692
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7543921
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Euphrasia/pseuds/Euphrasia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jo confronts Henry with the watch and photo and he tries to tell her about his past. Meanwhile Lt. Reece needs their help.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Like so many of you I was devastated when I learned that Forever would not be returning. I had my own ideas about how the story would continue and it seemed my fantasies would not leave me in peace until I wrote them all out. It took me far longer than I would have liked to finish this but here it is, finally. I hope you enjoy. This is my very first attempt at a fan fiction of any sort so constructive criticism is more than welcome but please be nice.  
> Oh and I guess I'm supposed to say something about not owning any of the characters or the plot of Forever.

Her heart was beating hard as she descended the dark stairway. The first gunshot had sent her down here and with each step she was more certain her intuition was right. She could hear a distance sound of angry talking and the unmistakable voice of Henry made her heart beat even faster. He seemed to be shouting at someone although she couldn’t make out his exact words. He needed her. She quickened her pace yet she still was unsure where he was. This would all have been so much easier if he had just told her why that dagger was so important to him! If he had just trusted her, she could have helped him.

She tried to make out the rest of the conversation but the voices were softer now. And then that vibrating boom that echoed through her soul sounded once more. She didn’t know how but she knew without a doubt that it was Henry at the receiving end of that bullet. In her mind’s eye she could clearly see him helpless on the floor in a pool of his own blood.

“Henry!” She cried, not liking the fear she heard in her own voice. She had to find him, now! With gun at the ready and not much more light to search with than what came from her flashlight she stepped onto the abandoned subway platform. Where was he? She turned to the left and could see nothing and just as she was about to advance forward she saw a flash of light that must have originated from behind her. She spun around but it was gone and she could not determine what had caused it. She stepped cautiously forward. There in the middle of the platform lay something glinting in the light of her flashlight. Something that was so familiar to her and yet out of place, all alone on the dank floor.

“Henry.” She said again, only this time with a mixture of defeat and confusion. She bent down to pick it up and felt how it was warm, as if its owner had only just left it behind. She looked up again but he was nowhere to be found. How could this be? She had heard his voice; he should have been here. She knew that he would not have hid himself from her, and he certainly would not have willingly left his watch behind. But as certainly as she knew he had been shot she also knew without a doubt that he had been here but wasn’t any longer.

“Where is he?” With the eye of a detective she scanned the space around her, looking for clues. She was desperate for anything that would tell her where she could find her partner. The beam of her flashlight caught on to something small and white laying a few feet away. She bent to lift it up and a gasp escaped her. There on the small photograph she held in her hand was the very man she was seeking. Henry’s eyes looked out at her, happier than she had ever seen them in real life. He was standing very close to a beautiful blonde woman holding a baby. It seemed like a typical family photo. It should have been a unique insight into the life that Henry was so averse to sharing with anyone, except for the fact that this photo gave every indication of being from a time decades before he was even born.

She didn’t know how long she stood staring at that photo, with her mind and heart jumping through a gambit of emotions ranging from surprise to disbelief to an unexpected but fierce longing to find a way to put a smile that big on Henrys face again. This photo confused her, but it also made a crazy kind of sense, more than many of the half-truths that Henry had told her over the past few months. So many of her questions, so many of his comments seemed to take on a new kind of clarity as this photo filled in the gaps.

She shook her head, and willed herself back to reality. It was impossible for the man in this photo to be her Henry. For that to be true Henry would have to be at least ninety years old. Slowly and deliberately she took the insane thoughts and reigned them in. Speculation would do her no good at the moment. Only one person could explain this photo to her and he was still missing. She pocketed the watch and the photo and with a head more level than she expected searched the rest of the platform. When she came up empty she got above ground and decided to call Abe. He picked up after two rings,”

“Oh Hi, Jo.”

“Abe… have you seen Henry lately?” She was afraid of the answer he would give.

“Why yes. He and I just got back into the store.” She noticed a sense of relief in his voice that belied his nonchalant manner. “You see we were uh, just out for uh lunch.” She knew he was lying about lunch because of his uneasy tone, and also because it was only just then 11 in the morning, but she was also fearful that he was lying about his knowledge of where Henry was. But then she heard Henry’s voice in the background of the phone call and she let out a breath she didn’t even know she had been holding.

“So he is with you?” She breathed.

“Yeah, Yeah! Oh did you want to talk to him?”

“No, that won’t be necessary. I just needed to know he was…” What was she going to say? Safe? Alive? “It’s not important. I will talk to him later. Thanks Abe.” She hung up. Relief washed over her. He was ok and safe at home. How he had managed that she could not explain, seeing how she had just seen him on a subway car heading the opposite direction of the Antique shop. She pulled out the picture to look at once again. For the first time she turned it over and on the back she saw some writing, in a neat flowery scrawl.

First day In New York! – October 2, 1946

That didn’t help with the mystery of who the people in the photo were, but it if was to be believed, than it did shed some light on the when. She was beginning to feel overwhelmed with all of the confusing evidence laid before her. She needed to talk to Henry but wasn’t sure what to say to him. How could she approach him with this photo and not risk scaring him away to hide behind that façade which he so fixedly held up for all the world, even her. She might not know all the secrets of his past but she knew him well enough to know that she needed to be prepared for what she was certain would be his immediate response. He would undoubtedly try to cover this up with some noncommittal story and highlight some eccentricity to throw her off track. The watch he could explain away but the photo was something else.

Her detective training began to kick in and she knew she needed to arm herself with more information. As much as she hated the idea she needed to treat this like an interrogation of a suspect. Her first step was to gather all the information on Henry that she could so that she would at least have an inkling if he was lying. She made her decision and with determination, and a little bit of guilt in her heart she headed to the precinct.

Jo made her way to her desk and sat down with a sigh. When she first met Henry she had looked him up. She wanted to know what kind of background he had and where he had come from. But it had been a cursory search, nothing more. What she was planning on doing now was on a whole different level. She would now be scouring his past like she would do for any suspect in a case. It felt wrong to do it to a friend, and an intensely private one at that. She hoped he would forgive her. But she needed facts and she was hopeful that the NYPD databases would supply her with more than Henry had in the time she had known him.

As soon as her first search loaded she began scouring the screen hungrily for anything that could help her make sense of this photo, or the last 24 hours, or her entire partnership with Henry. However 20 minutes into her search she had come up with more questions than facts. Aside from his diplomas from Oxford and Guam, which truthfully could have been altered if he had had a reason, and his work history as a grave digger, his past was fairly nonexistent. There were no records of a previous wife or children, nor a single record for any parent or grandparent or any family whatsoever, though Jo knew he must have had them. She knew at least that Henry had had a father who had been business partners with Abe, and there was not a shred of evidence that linked Henry and Abe’s families together aside from their address. Jo hated to admit it but if Henry had been a suspect in a case she would have all the evidence she needed to seriously question whether he really was who he claimed to be. His past seemed masterfully and purposefully scrubbed of detail.

Hours went by and still her searches came up empty, so with blurry eyes and a shaky breath Jo looked back down at the photo. She was still so confused, but a search yielding no results was still something she could use. If he didn’t want to divulge his past to his friend that was his right, but he would have no choice but to answer his partner’s concerns about the gaping holes in his background.

She didn’t think she could get any more information on Henry’s past without going to the source himself. If she waited now she would only be stalling out of fear. She didn’t know what Henry could possible tell her that would make this photo, or the other many mysteries that surrounded him make sense. She was also afraid of hearing what exactly had happened today. She was still feeling effects of being certain he was in mortal danger and only seeing him alive and well would change that. She wanted answers and she was determined to get them. She was prepared to hear whatever it was he had to tell her, she just hoped it would be the truth.

She decide to make the walk to the Antique shop instead of taking a cab in an effort to clear her mind but by the time she approached the door her heart was racing from nerves. She saw Henry and Abe together at a small table and relief filled her when she finally saw him, healthy and unharmed. Her heart did a sudden and unexpected flip flop in her chest when he turned toward her with that dazzling smile and charm, so much so that she almost lost her nerve. But as he opened the door she found her resolve once more.

“Hello Detective. Do you have a new mystery for me to solve?” He looked happy and almost light hearted. Something had changed in him since the last time they spoke, like a huge weight had been lifted from his shoulders.

“Yeah you could say that” she said presenting him with the watch. She saw the smallest flicker of trepidation on his face before the familiar mask covered it up and he went on to spout some story about it being stolen.

“You know I thought you might say that. I also found this.” She held out the photo to him. And there it was. If she’d had any doubt that this photo meant something important to him it was undeniably erased by the look that overcame his face. The mask was gone and she could see his fear and vulnerability clear as day. She had presented him with something he could not explain away and it clearly terrified him. She couldn’t help the small, smug smile that came to her lips.

“Tell Her.” Abe said simply. Henry looked from Abe and again to Jo. He looked lost and scared, but also strangely relieved. As if he had both long awaited and long feared this very moment.

“It’s a long story.” He said to her, almost in a whisper. His eyes were locked on her and hers on him.

“I would expect nothing less from you Henry.”


	2. Chapter 2

Abe nudged him a little and Henry realized that he had been standing staring at Jo Martinez for several moments.

“I’m sorry, Jo, why don’t you come in.” He felt like he was in shock. His heart was racing and his mind, though usually quick and canny, seemed slow and in-equipped to deal with the conversation ahead. In agitated silence he led her upstairs to their apartment.

“Look Pops” Abe whispered to him at the top of the stairs. “I am here for you. If you need anything backed up let me know. But I am going to be downstairs. She needs the truth and its,”

“Not your story to tell.” Henry finished his son’s sentence, placing a hand on his shoulder, gathering all the strength he could from his presence. “I know, thank you Abraham.”

When he entered the living room he saw Jo standing in the middle of the room, looking at him expectantly.

“Maybe, maybe you should sit down.” He urged her. “Would you like something to drink? Tea, Coffee…whisky? In fact, I’ll just get the whiskey, I think I am going to need it.” He was nervously rambling and, he knew, acting completely out of character. She had completely thrown him off his guard and for once he had been left without words. He ran his hand through his hair. He should have been prepared for this. He knew she had followed him down into that tunnel today, he knew it had been close. He had expected questions and was prepared to explain them away as he had always done. But he had not expected that photo, that inexplicable photo, to fall into her hands. 

To be honest he had longed to tell her about his truth for so long now. He had rehearsed this conversation so many times in his head, in many different ways and always coming to the conclusion that there was nothing he could say that wouldn’t make his tale seemed absolutely ridiculous. He wanted her to know, he wanted to confide in her but, even despite Abe’s not to subtle encouragement he had decided against it time and again. Yet now he was left with only two choices: Tell her the truth or tell a lie she would surely see through and risk losing her friendship forever.

He returned with the whiskey and saw her still there with that patient but expectant look on her face. He couldn’t look at her while, with shaky hands, he poured them each a glass and topped it off with a splash of water. He was surprised when she took his hand. He slowly looked up into her doe brown eyes.

“Henry, it’s ok. I can see that you are scared, but it’s me, it’s just me. Just take a breath.” She looked at him calmly waiting for him to do as she asked. He sat down slowly on the couch opposite her, his wide scared eyes never leaving hers. 

“I don’t know where to begin.” He breathed, truthfully.

“Then why don’t I start.” Slowly on the table between them she placed the watch and the photograph. He sat there still, staring at the objects. 

“I was angry with you the last time we spoke.” He was surprised at the perceived change in topic and she stopped him as he was about to apologize. “I’m not looking for an apology, that isn’t why I brought it up. I was angry about how you tricked me, how you felt you couldn’t trust me.” He could still sense the bitterness as she spoke those words, “But I know you well enough to realize that there must have been some bigger forces at play to make you act the way you did. I was angry, yes, but I was also worried about you Henry. I was scared that you might have gotten into something over your head and that you needed help, whether you wanted it from me or not. So I followed you to the subway this morning.” She paused to look at him, perhaps to determine if this was a surprise to him. “You left the subway car and for a moment I thought I had lost you. That is when I heard the first gunshot below. It was like…like no gun shot I had ever heard before. I knew that had to be where you had gone, and Henry, I was terrified. I thought you were in real trouble.” Her voice was shaking and for a moment he feared that she might cry. “I heard your voice coming from below, you were so angry.” He was shocked, what exactly had she heard? “Then the second shot came. Henry, I was certain that you had been shot. I believed in my heart that I would find you dying on that subway floor.” She squeezed hand, as if assuring herself that he was really there, that he was ok. “I went lower and I searched for you. I called for you. I knew you had been there but you didn’t come to me. I found your watch but I still couldn’t find you. And then,” She lifted the photo between them, “I did. Didn’t I?” 

Their eyes met and they were both silent for a moment. He was breathless, and at a complete loss for words. She had recounted the morning’s events exactly. She had been closer to finding him on that subway floor than he had thought.

“I didn’t know what to think when I saw this. Nothing I knew about you could explain why your watch and this photo were in that tunnel in your absence, or how this photo even exists.” She slowly turned the photo over, silently but deliberately showing him the writing, and date on the back. He gave a sharp intake of breath. “I know I should have come straight to you but, I have to confess, I did a little digging first. I went to the precinct and I am so sorry because I know it betrays your trust Henry, I did a search in the NYPD database for any record concerning you. I looked through every file at my disposal looking for answers, and I came up with very few. But you knew that is what I would find, didn’t you? It felt almost as if you made it that way.” 

She picked up the photo once more, holding it between them.

“I have more questions now than when I started and more insane thoughts running through my head than I care to admit, so please, Henry, tell me the truth. Who are these people?”  
She said nothing more and waited, expectantly, for him to speak.

“Jo” he took a huge shaky breath “You’ve always known me to be a man of science. There is always a logical explanation for the unexplainable, and, if I do say so myself I am rather gifted at finding that explanation. But Jo, to explain the truth of that photo to you, would be asking you to believe the impossible.” He stood up, hand running through his hair again out of nervousness and he struggled to keep the agitation out of his voice. “I fear you won’t believe me, or that you’ll think I’m mad! That fear is what has driven me to keep a distance from everyone in my life, including you.” He added sadly. He looked over at her. “Because I don’t think I could bare to lose you Jo, you have come to mean too much to me.”

“Henry.” She reached for his hand again, leading him to sit down. “I don’t know your truth. I can’t promise you that what you tell me won’t scare or shock me. If it’s like you say and it is so unbelievable I can’t promise that I will be able to accept it right away. But I am your friend, you are important to me too, more than you know.” She squeezed his hand for reassurance. “Give me the facts and time to process it all and I can promise you, you won’t lose me. I believe in you Henry. Please believe in me too.”

He looked at her, this strong, sensible, caring woman before him, and she gave him a courage he didn’t know he could have. He did believe in her. How could he not? She had given so much to him. She had come into his life and given him a reason to connect with the world again. And even when he had given her every reason to give up on him completely she was still here, still cared about him. In these last few moments he sensed that their relationship had traveled miles further than where it had been only yesterday. He needed someone to trust, and it was her. He needed it to be her. He nodded. He was ready. 

“Just start with the photo.” She said.

He took it in his hands. There she was, his Abigail, looking out at him. This had been one of the happiest times of his long life and it would be such a blessing to share it with the woman seated before him.

“Well you see this adorably chubby fellow here.” He said pointing to the baby. “This would be Abraham.” She looked up at him in wonderful surprise, a smile gracing her face. “And the lady holding him was his mother” She nodded, seriously now, obviously remembering that this lady’s bones had been discovered only days before. “And this gentleman,” He paused and she looked up at him. The air between them seemed charged with electric anticipation “this is Abraham’s father, Dr. Henry Morgan.” He said it with a flourish, indicating himself. “The man in the photo is me Jo.”

She looked at him astonished. He saw it there, that flicker of fear. He had expected it but it still hurt him to see it on her face. But soon her face changed. The fear, though still there, was accompanied by something else that even Henry was having a hard time deciphering. He watched as the wheels turned in her head. She opened her mouth to speak a few times but closed it again. The suspense was agony but she had asked for time to process and so he waited. Finally she looked him square in the eyes and said,

“How can this be Henry?” To his shock this was asked as an honest question. Her expression was nowhere near belief, but she didn’t seem to be implying that it could not be, just simply asking how it was possible. He knew she needed more to go on. Her detective’s brain needed all the facts to accept the truth, and he was ready to answer any question she had but just at that moment they were both startled by a loud buzzing coming from the table.

Jo’s phone was ringing with Hansen’s number shining from the display. She looked at Henry with aggravation. She clearly did not want to interrupt their conversation. 

“Henry I’m sorry. I’m technically on call, I have to answer.” She picked up the phone and with a shakier voice than usual addressed Mike and turned away from Henry.

Of all the terrible moments for Jo to get a call from the precinct, this was the worst. Henry was left to sit in suspense as he waited for the call to be done. He prayed that it would not require her to leave him because there was still so much he needed to tell her. Until this moment, when he was forced to make himself completely vulnerable, to lay bare before her all that he had kept a secret from the world for so long, he hadn’t realized just how much he needed someone to hear his story, and how much he needed that person to be Jo. 

“Oh no! Ok we’ll be right there.” She hung up and slowly turned back around to Henry. She looked at him with determined eyes.

“We have a body.”

“Jo, don’t you think,” he was gesturing toward the photo and watch to indicate their previous conversation. She held up a hand to interrupt him.

“You and I, we have had to become masters of hiding the heavy stuff from the world, keeping people at arm’s length so that we can get through the day, through life. I know this is terrible timing and you are not off the hook.” She added fiercely. “I need more facts and I need to hear this story I think as much as you need to tell it, but we are going to have to put that on hold right now.”

“Yes, but Jo,”

“The body is Lieutenant Reece’s niece.”

“What?” He asked in shock.

“We have to go, now.” She took a breath. “I have to ask you to push all of this aside, just for now. For the Lieutenant. I can do that, can you?”

“Yes.” 

She nodded and he warily watched her pick up the photo and put it in her pocket. He could tell that she wanted to hold on to it as collateral, so that he wouldn’t try to go back on explaining. He took her by the arm, gently.

“Jo, You have my word, when this is all over I will tell you anything you want to know.” He looked her right in the eyes and she nodded. “But Jo, can you give me your word that until then no one else will see that photo, or know what I’ve told you?”

“You have my word Henry.”

They stood there for just a moment, standing so close and eyes locked. They had an understanding. Despite the gravity of what he had just revealed and regardless whatever she may feel about it they would push it down and cover it up and together they would go and solve the case and help their friend, just as they have always done. The story would be told, it would just have to wait. Regardless of what the truth was, they believed in each other, and that would have to be good enough for now.


	3. Chapter 3

The ride to the crime scene was silent and awkward. Despite her claim that she could set aside what he had just told her and go about business as usual she was having a hard time silencing the buzzing in her brain and calming the fluttering in her chest.

It can’t be real? Could it be some kind of joke? She looked sidelong at his ashen face and she knew that it wasn’t. Whatever the truth really was, he truly believed that he was the man in that photo. But how could that be possible? For him to be in that photo, to be Abe’s father, he would need to be some kind of time traveler, or nearly one hundred years old! She snuck another covert sideways look at him. He definitely didn’t look any older than the 35 years he claimed to be. Despite herself she felt a sort of maniacal laughter bubbling up in her at her roaming, ridiculous thoughts. With sheer force of will she was able pushed it back down and covered it up with a fake little cough. He looked at her with concern. This was going to be harder than she thought. She had too many questions springing to her mind. But without the promise of time to have them all answered there was no sense in asking them now. It has to wait Martinez, Just like you said, now get a grip on yourself. 

They arrived at the crime scene and she could see the stress he was trying to suppress boiling over onto his face. She took his arm and looked at him right in the eyes.

“We can do this Henry, together, just like always, ok?” She hoped he understood all that she hadn’t said. That she was freaking out too but she was here and she wasn’t going anywhere. He nodded and they left the car.

Distraction from their current dilemma came immediately in the form of the tragic scene they encountered when they entered the apartment. Lt. Reece was kneeling at the head of a bloodied body lying in the center of the living room. She looked so sad and defeated that Jo’s breath was nearly knocked from her. The look of grief on Reece’s face was all too familiar to her. Jo approached her and knelt down. It was clear that she had been crying but that she had since mastered that messy emotional response. She was calm, but devastated, nonetheless.

“Lieutenant, I am so sorry.” LT. Reece grabbed her hand a squeezed lightly in appreciation but said nothing and made no other movements. Jo immediately stood up and got to work. The best way she could help Reece right now was to do her job. Henry was already bent over the body examining the wound. She would let him do his thing. Right now she needed information.

“Mike, what do you have?”

“Victim is Kira Milton, 19. She was a sophomore in the NYU journalism department. She had been living here in the city for school for the past two years with LT. Reece checking in on her for her parents, who live in PA. Reece say she believes she had been working at some point today. She got a call from her niece around 3pm this afternoon. She stated she sounded upset and asked her to come by for dinner, that she saw something today and needed to talk her, alone. LT. Reece got here as quickly as she could get away which wasn’t until about 5:20pm. The scene was like this when she arrived.” He stole a sorrowful glace and LT. Reece who had finally begun to get up and move herself away from the body to the other side of the room. “Poor woman.” He whispered, wiping his hands over his eyes. “I can’t imagine coming in here to find someone you love,” His voice cut off. Jo knew that he could easily imagine his wife or kids lying on that floor instead of Kira and it scared him to death.

“Where did she work?” Jo asked to get them back on track and also to distract Mike from the dark places she sensed his mind was going.

“Pop’s Pizza on Langston Avenue. LT. Reece said she had been there for about a year now as a server.”

“Ok.” She said beginning to take in the crime scene. The door appeared to have no damage from a forced entry and nothing seemed amiss in the surrounding apartment. “Are we thinking she may have known her attacker, or could she have left her door unlocked?”

“Not sure yet. They should be dusting for prints in a few moments.” 

She crossed over to Henry. Looking at Kira now Jo saw she was a pretty girl and truly she could have been sleeping if not for the large stain of blood on her shirt.  
“Henry, can you determine cause of death?” 

“Yes, it appears fairly straight forward. There is some light bruising on her left wrist indicating a brief struggle. But the cause of death,” he hesitated, nervously looking at LT. Reece who had returned to the body. “Would be the large stab wound just below her breast bone. The amount of blood indicates the artery was severed.” He hesitated “It would only have taken her a moment to die, and though uncomfortable it is unlikely she felt much pain.” Added quietly looking at LT. Reece. She nodded, understanding that Henry wanted her to know her niece’s suffering had been minimal.

“Without further testing I can’t be certain of the time of death,” Henry was all business again. “But I can tell you that she has been gone less than a few hours. Did I hear you say she called Lt. Reece around 3pm?” Hansen nodded in the affirmative. “Then I would make an educated guess that the time of the attack happened shortly after that, perhaps within a 20-30 minute window.”

“LT. Do you know where Kira called you from? Was it here in her apartment?” Jo asked.

“I’m not certain. She offered to come into the precinct but I told her no, to get home and stay home and I would be there soon. I should have just let her come, I thought she would be safer here.” She looked away, as if she might succumb to crying again, but when she looked back at them she had a steely resolved look and her eyes were dry. “I was supposed to protect her. He parents let her come to NYU because they knew I was here and wouldn’t let anything happen to her.” She was quiet a moment, looking at her niece’s body. She looked back at Jo and Mike. “Find out what happened to Kira. Find out who did this to her.” She turned her gaze to Henry and added, “I don’t care what you have to do.” With that she walked out of the apartment.

Jo, Mike and Henry were quiet for a moment, LT. Reece’s charge weighing heavily on them. Henry was the first to speak.

“I’ll have the body packed up and sent to the morgue for further testing, but I’d like the shoes as well.”

“The shoes?” Detective Hansen asked.

“Yes, detective. The victim’s shoes are not on her feet but placed neatly by the front door. I believe she most likely was wearing them right before she got home and possibly they could tell us where she had been. Similarly I would like to ask you to have this part of the carpet tested,” he said indicating a curved and dirty smudge in the cream colored carpet. “Which I believe is the killer’s footprint.”

“It’s just a spot on the rug Doc. It probably came from her own shoe. How can you be so sure it belonged the killer?” Hansen asked, confused.

“Ah but our victim’s shoes didn’t touch this carpet today, and I don’t think they ever have. Look around you detective.” Henry says gesturing his arms to the small apartment around them. “Aside from a dead body, do you see a mess or smudge or anything out of place whatsoever?” Jo looked around. He was right. The place was spotless. Not one dish in the sink or pillow out of place. Each Knick Knack and photo frame were strategically and uniformly placed, and not a speck of dust. Aside from the spot Henry had indicated, and of course now a huge blood stain, the carpet was immaculate. Jo considered herself a fairly tidy person and she couldn’t say the same for her own carpet at home. Henry was crossing to a nearby closet, throwing it open to reveal an array of cleaning equipment and supplies that were very out of place in the common college student’s accommodations. Even the vacuum seemed scoured of any dirt. 

“I believe our victim suffered from Obsessive Compulsive Disorder with an emphasis on Cleanliness, or as some might call her, a “Neat Freak”. She spent hours meticulously cleaning and tidying her house to create a spotless environment to live, meaning she would never, ever step foot on this light colored carpet with shoes she wore out on the streets of New York, let alone shoes that she had been working in a restaurant with. If there is a spot on this floor I believe it was put there by the murderer who would have quickly and carelessly trampled her hard work to get to his victim. If we can get this part of the carpet removed we can test it for clues as to where the attacker may have been before he came here.”

Jo couldn’t help a little smile that came to the corner of her mouth. He was the same old Henry. Seeing what the rest of them missed and putting all the clues together with a flourish only he could pull off. 

“Ok Henry, we’ll have that all sent over to the morgue. Mike and I should start with contacting her close friends and workplace to see if there are any leads there. We’ll see you back at the precinct.” They locked eyes for just a moment, and Henry nodded, looking solemn and nervous again.  
“I’ll see you then detective.”  
________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

An hour and a half sailed by and Jo found herself at her desk hanging up from another depressing phone call to a devastated friend of Kira’s who had no clue as to what might have happened to her today or who would have wanted to hurt her. She sat back in her chair. She knew her next step was a visit down to the morgue and yet she was hesitant. Her interaction with Henry at the crime scene had gone well. There had been so much more to think about in the presence of death that their previous conversation had been easier to push aside than she had thought. But now there had been time for her mind to replay what he told her, and even more disturbingly to fit it in to all the mysteries surrounding the man himself. Her willingness to believe this impossible truth frightened her and made her begin to worry for her own sanity. Sighing she popped her confused thoughts like a balloon and pushed back her chair to head down to see Henry. 

It was late for anyone to be working in the morgue but she knew he would still be there, determined to find out all he could for Lt. Reece. When she arrived she saw him standing over the body working intently. She noticed he was the only one in the white and quiet room. She approached him quietly, watching him work.

“It’s not nice to sneak up on people detective.” He said making her jump and breaking the silence.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t want to frighten you.” He looked over to her with a small smile. “I just finished speaking with some of Kira’s friends and family. Her parent’s confirmed your suspicion that she suffered from OCD. And her boss at the restaurant said she had been working today since 9 am but ended up going home a bit early because she felt ill. Around 2pm he said. He’s sending over the time stamp for the exact time.” Henry gave her an intrigued look. ‘It’s definitely suspicious that Kira would beg off work only an hour or so before she was killed. The question is did she leave work before or after she saw whatever it was she called the Lieutenant about. How about you? Find anything we can go on?”

“Well Lucas is having some samples from the victims shoes tested for me. I expect him back soon and I hope that will give us something. I also took samplings of a white substance from under our victim’s nails. Over here,” He pointed to the victim’s chest, now opened to the bone. “Was the stabbing wound. With the shape of the wound itself plus the indentation made and the bottom of the sternum it appeared to be made by something thin and wide and quite sharp, with a pointed tip. In my estimation it was something akin to a typical chef’s knife, if not exactly that.”

Jo raised her eyebrows. “A Chef’s knife? Possibly from the restaurant?”

“My thoughts exactly.” Henry replied. Jo’s heart warmed and her previous nervousness to see Henry eased. They may have a lot unsaid between them but they still made a damn good team.

“The attacker,” Henry continued. “Would have grabbed her by the left wrist as she tried to get away and pulled her back toward him while he thrust forward and slightly upward with the knife.” He turned away emphatically acting out the motions as he spoke, then looked over his shoulder at Jo. “I say “he” because based on the trajectory of the knife the attacker would have been at least a foot taller than Kira, and the average woman.” He stopped letting all of that information lay in the air between them. Jo was looking at Kira’s face sadly.

“You told Lieutenant Reece that Kira didn’t feel any pain, that she died quickly.” She looked up to his face. “Is that true or were you just trying to be nice?” Henry looked down at Kira now as well, he suddenly seemed far away in thought.

“It is true. She would have felt the knife’s blade, would have felt the blood leave her and the weakness come, and difficulty breathing. For the briefest of moments she would have known she was dying and then…it would have been over. The pain would not have had time to reach her.” He spoke in such a strange way, as if this were not just something he learned in a book. Unbidden to her mind came the memory of him, shot atop Grand Central Station, and then falling from the roof to what could only have been his death. It was a memory that was so real, so clear in her mind, but one that, up until today, she had tried to convince herself was nothing more than a hallucination brought on by pain or morphine. But now, with new light shed on the mysterious Henry Morgan she asked, not for the first time, 

“How can you possibly know that?”

He looked at her, and for a moment he seemed to be warring with himself. This was one of those moments when, in the past, he would have found some excuse not to answer or have thrown her off topic with an eccentric response. But so much had changed between them and this time he just shrugged and said plainly, 

“Experience.”

“First hand?” She wondered out loud, suddenly very afraid of what he would say. He looked startled but strangely pleased. She could tell he would have said more but at that moment Lucas came blustering in, waving a piece of paper at Henry.

“Lab results came in, oh Hey Detective Martinez. Terrible about LT. Reece’s Niece. Dr. Morgan, You won’t believe what was on the bottom of our victim’s shoes!” He said handing the paper to Henry. Henry looked over the lab results and then looked up with excitement to Jo. 

“I believe this may be the break you are looking for Detective.” He grabbed one of Kira’s shoes and Jo could see that the bottom was quite filthy. “You see Kira’s shoe here. It appears these are the shoes she wears while working in the restaurant and, as is typical for those in the food service industries their shoes come in contact with some of the most fulsome substances, from rancid cooking oil to rotting food to fecal matter,”

“Henry!” Jo had heard enough and wished he would get to the point.

“Obviously most people in her profession would not want to track that kind of grime into their homes, and as we already noted, Kira was on the extreme end of that. I expect that she washed these shoes with some frequency, if not after every shift. Unfortunately for her she was unable to wash them after her shift today. The substance on her shoes consisted mostly of a mixture of oil, flour, and dirt, presumably from the kitchen floor and the streets of New York. However there was a layer of something else sandwiched in between all of that. A solid white powder that looked nothing like the flour it lay between and that looked suspiciously like the substance under the victim’s fingernails.”

“Well, what was it?”

“Heroin!” 

“Are you telling me that Kira was mixed up in drugs?” She was devastated. How could she possible tell LT Reece this?

“No Detective, there was no other sign of drugs on or in her body, Kira was clean. What I am telling you is that, at some point today, she came in contact with Heroin which she touched and stepped in. What is more, I am telling you that almost immediately afterward she stepped on the floor of the kitchen where she worked.”

It was suddenly clear to Jo what he was telling her. Kira had come into contact with the drugs, perhaps this is what she saw that she had called her Aunt about, and she had been at her job when it happened.

“I think it’s time we took a trip to the restaurant.” She said with a small grin. His eyes flashed with the familiar excitement she had grown accustomed to when they worked a case together, but then they almost immediately clouded over with uncertainty. 

“Do you, want me to come?” He asked hesitantly. She rolled her eyes at him gave an exasperated sigh.

“Of course Henry!”

The charming smile and flash of excitement returned, and also a little something that looked like relief. They started heading toward the door.

“Ok, cool. I’ll just stay here then, all alone.” Said Lucas forlornly, but they were too far away to hear.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a few notes:  
> I had a hard time coming up wroth the "Murder" and obviously crime writing is not my forte. I did the best I could and I had to make a lot up as I went. I just hope it all makes sense.   
> Also, I know that OCD is a serious illness. I don't mean to make light of it nor do I claim to be an expert on it so if I have inadvertently offended anyone I greatly apologize.


	4. Chapter 4

“Where did you say she worked again?” Henry asked as they got in the car. 

“Pop’s Pizza.” She stately flatly. When he just looked at her confused for a moment she said “Come on, you are a New Yorker and you don’t know Pop’s Pizza? It’s been one of the most famous local Pizza Places for probably 50 years!”

“Well I’ve never understood the appeal of pizza. Where is it located?”

“Oh it’s not far from here actually. It on the corner of Langston and 7th.”

“Langston and 7th?” He asked in surprised.

“Ok, so you are telling me you don’t know Pop’s but you know their address?”

“Well, yes, I am quite familiar with the building.” His voice trailed a bit as he recalled a lovely woman, a hazy room and a secluded corner table, from a lifetime ago.

She rolled her eyes at him in a familiar way as she parked the car.

“We are here”  
She got out of the car and met him around on the side walk. He was looking up at the building, still feeling a bit nostalgic.

“Henry,” She said waking him from his trance “We’ve got to hurry. It’s late and they are closing up.”

“Yes, quite right detective.” They approached the restaurant door. It was indeed late and the outside lights were already turned off indicating the restaurant was closed for business, but through the large glass window they could see the movement of employees scurrying around finishing their end of shift tasks so that they could at last go home. Jo knocked on the glass and the face of a short young woman came into view. She had a kind but slightly exasperated look of someone who had been on her feet for many hours as she said,   
“Sorry we are closed, we open tomorrow at 10 am.” Jo flashed her badge.

“We are looking for your boss. Is he here?”

The girl’s face changed to concern, which was expounded upon by the fact that Hanson and the uniformed officers that Jo had called in to come and help with backup and taking statements had just arrived in a car with its red and blue lights flashing. She immediately unlocked the door letting them all in.

“He’s in the back. I’ll go get him.” And she practically fled away to find him. He arrived a moment later with a confused look upon his face.

“Hello, officers. How can I help you this evening?”

“Mr. John Rossi?” He nodded in affirmation. “I’m detective Jo Martinez. We spoke on the phone earlier about the murder of Kira Milton.” The few servers who had been milling about in the dining room trying to pretend that they were not eavesdropping immediately gave up the pretense as they heard Jo’s statement, curiosity getting the better of them.

“John, you just said something happened! You didn’t say she was murdered!” Said one gentlemen who was nearest to him.

“Not now, Mike. All of you, get back to work, please.” He added tensely. 

“Actually I will need to get a statement from everyone here, as well as a full list of all your employees, highlighting those who were working here this afternoon when Kira was on duty.” Jo said loudly enough for the room to hear.

“And why would you need that?” Asked John.

“Because we have reason to believe that there was an event here earlier today that precipitated the murder of Kira Milton.” Henry cut in with a smile as Jo held up a warrant. “We will also need to have a look around the premise, Please.” John nodded nervously.

“My family has owned this building and this business for 60 years. There is nothing to see but you are more than welcome to look around.”

“John I’d like to start by having you tell me, to your knowledge, what happened here while Kira was on her shift?” Jo said.

“I, well I don’t know.” He began nervously. “Nothing out of the ordinary, other than she went home about an hour early, she said she wasn’t feeling well. She’d come in at her normal time at 9, and got to work as usual prepping for the day. She was my opening server on Fridays so for the first three hours it was just her and Aaron and I here, until the 12 o’clock shift comes in.”

“And who is Aaron?” Asked Jo.

“He works in the kitchen. Prep cook and Pizza chef.”

“And who came in at 12?”

They continued to discuss Kira’s shift but Henry knew that there was more information to be found in the rest of the building. He wandered through the double swinging doors to the kitchen, looking for the door that led to the back alley. In the kitchen he heard light banging of metal against wood and saw the back of a young man, probably in his early 20’s working hard to clear away the flour and stray bits of food from the large wood pizza counter.

“Hello there, are you Aaron”

“Who are you?” He asked, looking affronted.

“I work with the NYPD. We are looking into the murder of Kira Milton.” Henry paused, waiting to see his reaction or to see if Aaron would supply any information on his own, but he just shrugged and got back to work.

“You attended NYU with Kira, did you know her well?”

Aaron looked up sharply.

“How did you,” He began, but Henry was already pointing to the Hoodie emblazoned with an NYU logo hanging from a rack nearest to him in the kitchen. “Oh.” He said.

“No I didn’t know her from school at all. We were in different majors and very different circles.” Henry could sense a bit of bitterness there. “Just knew her from here and not very well. She was a hard worker from what I could tell. A little neurotic though.” He added.

“Oh, why do you say that?” Henry asked, although he had a feeling he already knew the answer.

“She worried about stupid stuff, too much to work in the restaurant business if you ask me. She liked things just so, you know? Like, there have been a few times I had to remake food for her because it wasn’t “Quite right” and I knew it wasn’t the customer asking, but her.”

“Did you notice anything strange happening with her today?” He shrugged again.

“She seemed fine all day but around 2 o’clock she and john went into his office,” He pointed indicating the door a few feet to his left. “I assume she was asking to leave early because I heard him shouting something at her and then she came out a few minutes later saying she was sick and leaving for the day.” The story seemed to fit with what the owner had said.  
“Did she seem sick at that time?” Asked Henry.

“Look, I don’t know dude. Like I said, I didn’t know her and I really wasn’t paying attention to how she looked. Now can I get back to work? It’s been a long day and I’d like to get home.” He exclaimed, irritated.

“Actually no. I’m sorry but everyone has to give a statement with the officers up front before they can leave.” Henry said, indicating that Aaron should head to the dining room. He glowered at him, obviously beyond irritated now but he slumped away out of the kitchen.

Henry turned now, seeing what it was he had been looking for. He exited through the back door of the restaurant that led into a very small alleyway. It was dark and he was just wishing for a flashlight or some other source of illumination when Jo stepped out into the alley.

“John didn’t give me much to go on but he is getting me employee lists and everyone else is upfront giving statements. Henry, what are you doing?” Blessedly she pulled out her flashlight and Henry all but snatched it from her hands.

“I told you I was familiar with this building, and I believe there is something here we need to investigate. It may not be involved with what Kira saw here today but it is just too much of a coincidence…” He trailed off searching the brick wall of the restaurant with the flash light.

“Ok what is it?” Jo asked looking at the wall as well. He gave her a sidelong look.

“This building may have housed a pizza shop for the past 60 years, as you said, but before that it was something else. The restaurant at street level was a small, quaint Italian place, bringing in just enough business to stay afloat and not draw too much attention. But down below street level was something else entirely. In the 1920s Speakeasy’s littered this city. Some were very small and others would go down in history. Many of those hidden rooms were discovered, either during the prohibition through raids, or after, bit by bit with the renovation of buildings. There were some however, that were so well hidden, their secret so well kept that they have never been discovered, and remain hidden in this city from nearly everyone, including the NYPD.”

“Henry are you saying that there is a hidden, forgotten speakeasy beneath this building?” Jo asked in disbelief with eyebrows raised. 

“Yes! And here it is!” He aimed the flash light beam at the pavement at the base of the building. “See here Jo? See how the pavement here seems more worn than elsewhere in this alley? It bares scrape marks from the door being opened. Quite recently, and quite frequently too.” He added.

“Yes but Henry, What door?” She was staring at the wall before them which looked just like the rest of the brick wall.

“I understand your confusion. The door is there I promise you, but disguised so well that it has escaped discovery all these many years.” He began feeling along the wall as he spoke. “This was a very high end and secretive Speakeasy. Only those very few who had been entrusted with its secret and invited by the proprietress herself would have any chance of getting in, let alone even knowing of its existence. This door is so brilliantly designed that unless you knew it was here you would never see it, and unless you knew its secret you could never open it.” His fingers finally landing on the one brick that he sought.

“So how do you open it?” She asked looking completely bewildered, but to his joy, trusting him all the same. He gave her his most devilish sideways grin. 

“You have to know the secret.” And with a wink he pressed his figure into the small hole in the brick his hand had landed on. With his other hand he counted three bricks up and four over and slipped his four fingers in a crack in the wall that looked just like any of the other gaps and cracks in the wall and barely big enough to fit his hand. He pressed down on a handle hidden within and miraculously a door opened before them. Jo looked up, astonished, at the door, where there was not a door before, and the very dark passage beyond it. A quick look past between them and without speaking they began their decent down the dark stair case, she leading the way with her flashlight and gun and he desperately seeking a light switch. They were still silent for a few steps and then Jo whispered,

“How could you possibly know about this?” 

He knew that he should just let that question go. This was not the time for that discussion. They had agreed to talk about it all later and they were treading on dangerous ground. But he had been so bolstered by her continued support and despite himself was beginning to hope that she may actually come to accept the truth of his unnaturally long life. He couldn’t stop himself from testing the waters a little bit.

“Well detective, when you live as long as I have you see a lot of things.” She had been shining her light down the staircase and seemed nearly at the bottom but he heard her give a sharp intake of breath and she stopped her in her tracks. Turning to him she said, 

“Jesus, Henry, How old ARE you?” And now he realized he had talked himself into a corner because he knew now was the worst possible moment to dump the ridiculous sum of his actual age on her. And yet he did not want to lie to her anymore. Thankfully it was just at that moment that his hand had alighted on the pull rope which illuminated a solitary bulb above them and shed light into the room around them.

What they saw immediately erased the thoughts of their previous conversation from both their minds. Before him was a room that he hadn’t thought about in decades. He could see it clearly as it had been then, dim and hazy with smoke, the sounds of music and laughter filling the air. And there in that far back corner he could see the ghosts of himself and the beautiful Millie Brighton enjoying cocktails and easy conversation. 

It wasn’t a time of his life that he often allowed himself to dwell on. Over the course of his 235 years he’d had been blessed with only a few happy times. His life with Abigail and Abe had been by far the best and longest span of time that he felt at home and happy. They had given his life purpose and meaning, allowing him to believe that he belonged to someone, someplace. And before them there had been, here and there, times he could remember feeling loved, accepted, and comfortable. But in between those times were dark years when he had been lost, alone and wallowing in an inescapable despair. He’d had no place to call home and no one to whom he could turn. All those who loved him were gone. He wandered aimlessly looking for something to spark some meaning in his very long life. Each day that past numbingly reminding him that he nothing for which to live. There were so many times that he desperately wished he could end his life; his inability to do so nearly drove him mad on more than one occasion. Of all the terrors and trials he had endured during his immortality, the loneliness was by far the worst. He feared returning to it more than anything else.

It was during one of these spells that he met Mille. Their friendship was short and their affair even shorter but she had offered him comfort at a time when he so desperately needed it. She was the proprietress of many speakeasies in town and met him at one of her less secretive locations. They hit it off and after a few nights of the most stimulating conversation he’d had in over three years she let him in on the secret of her Langston Avenue location and invited him to visit her there. It was a top secret and exclusive location, even as far as speakeasies were concerned and the only patrons allowed to enter were invited there by Millie herself. But there she sold top dollar liquor that was impossible to get anywhere else in the city.

Henry could have stayed in that little room with her forever, avoiding the depression that awaited him in his lonely world, but after about two months an older man whom Henry had treated for a malady when he was younger recognized him and began asking questions. It was time for him to leave New York and once again wander the earth looking for a new place to call home. 

He was grateful toward Millie for the brief reprieve from his despair that she had given him, but he had known that as beautiful as she was, she could not have filled the hole in his heart. Nonetheless, being suddenly faced so directly with the memory of her brought her face and the smell of her hair into such surreal focus that he almost forgot when he was.  
“Henry there must be over 500 bags of Heroin just on this table alone!” Jo exclaimed, snapping Henry back into reality. He suddenly saw what she had seen as the light turned on. The room was filled with drugs, not just heroin but Cocaine, Ecstasy, and pills of many different varieties. They had stumbled upon a drug operation so large that Henry was having trouble grappling with the magnitude.

“This has to be what Kira saw today.” Henry stated. “And look here.” He pointed to a small area at the base of the table housing the heroin bags. It was covered in a fine white powder and two sets of foot prints. “She must have come down here and seen this, walked over to this table and picked up a bag out of curiosity. That would explain the Heroin under her nails.”  
“But then she dropped the bag.” Jo said, continuing Henrys thought. “Perhaps she was startled, someone found her down here.” She said looking at the two sets of foot prints in the spilled heroin. 

“And that someone would have motive to kill her.” Henry said. “The location of this room is a complete secret from the rest of the world, but there is one person who would certainly have known about its existence.” He looked at Jo. 

“The owner of the building.” She said and immediately called in for back up.


	5. Chapter 5

The interrogation room was cold, and the hour was very late, but Jo had an extra large, very strong cup of coffee and that was going to have to get her through the next few hours. When she got the call that LT. Reece’s niece was murdered she knew without question that she was going to be working all night but the late hour was beginning to take its toll on her. She could see no end in sight however so she pressed on.

“John, tell me about the room downstairs.” John had been terrified when they had returned from the hidden room below the restaurant and clearly knew what they had found there. He had complied with the arrest with the air of a man who knew he had been caught.

“When my father bought the building to start up Pop’s he was told about the room. He told me that it had been a speakeasy in the 20s but I never believed him. He never did anything with the room. Sometimes, when I was a kid, I would play down there. When I took over the restaurant from my dad I had dreams of turning it into a secondary dining room, like for parties or something. But it was going to take a lot of renovation and, just like my Dad, I never got the nerve to look into it so it just sat there. To my knowledge I was the only one who even knew it existed.” He stopped for a moment and ran his hands over his face. “But one day I was, eh, approached. Ha, they practically abducted me. Told me they knew about the room and how to get in. They told me they needed it to store and package their drugs and they weren’t asking to use it, if you know what I mean.” He paused looking haggard. “They threated my family, my business, my life, if I didn’t let them and keep my mouth shut. You can protect them right? My family? I am so afraid of what they will do to them when they find I’m talking to you.”

“We can send out officers to be with your family right now. Who were they John?” Jo asked, kindly.

“I don’t know, I never saw their faces. They were very careful that should something like this ever happen that I couldn’t tell you anything. They said they had ways of keeping an eye on me but as far as I know they never set foot in the restaurant. They could easily come and go through the door in the alley, which they said they would only access at night. I tried my best to keep my employees out of the alley. I didn’t want them getting hurt.” He looked down at his hands guiltily. “They, they gave me another incentive for keeping my mouth shut. Every third Friday of the month they would stay away from the alley and the room. At some point that day I would go down the stairs and there would be an envelope filled with cash and my name written on the front. I despised myself for taking it.” He said bitterly. “But life is hard and the temptation was too great. I thought, you know, I can’t stop them so I might as well benefit.” He looked up at the ceiling and looked close to tears. “I’m sorry.” He said and Jo could not tell who it was meant for.

It was easy to feel sorry for him. He looked so pathetically guilt-ridden and his story was something of nightmares. And yet Jo couldn’t help but notice that despite his protestations that his morals were against the drug ring in his basement, he didn’t really seem to have tried too hard to stop it.

“John, today, or yesterday at this point,” She said glancing at her watch. “Was the third Friday of the Month.” Jo said flatly.

“Yes.” He sat quiet for a moment. Jo waited. “It was a little before 2, all the employees were busy but I was not needed and I decided to take the opportunity and go down to the room, to collect my ‘earnings’.” He said with bitterness and air quotes. “This has been going on for so long, and so far no one had ever suspected. I never saw the people in charge and I supposed I was beginning to feel more at ease than I should have. It felt too comfortable to think that but for once a month I could turn a blind eye to what was happening below the restaurant. So I grew careless. When I opened the door I immediately remembered that I had forgotten my flashlight in my office. It’s dark, you know, until you get to the bottom and it creeps me out. I went back to get it and I didn’t bother latching the door all the way. I was coming right back and no one ever goes into that alley…I thought it was safe.” Again he ran his hands over his face, rubbing his eyes. “When I got down the stairs there she was. I don’t know how or why she went down there but I knew that she had seen too much.”  
“And so you had to kill her, to keep the secret.” Jo stated. Finally they could get to the truth.

“No, no! I did not kill her. I was furious with her. I yelled at her and, I will admit to you I did threaten her life but I never would have actually hurt her. You have to understand, I was scared for her. She saw too much. She said she would tell. If they ever found out… I was so afraid of what they would do to her. No one could have known that she was down there so if she just kept her mouth shut she should have been safe. So I threatened her and told her to leave right away, to go home and tell no one what she saw. When she went upstairs I heard her tell some coworkers that she was ill and leaving early and so I stuck with that story. I thought that she would be ok… But look at what they did to her!” He said with grief. “I don’t know how they found out she saw what they were doing down there but they killed her for it!” John had stood up in his agitation and the emotion and fear on his face was enough to tell Jo that he was telling the truth.

They were both startled as an insistent knocking came from the mirror behind them. Jo glared over her shoulder with irritation and a slight smirk on her face. Secretly it brought her joy to see that nothing had changed and the same old Henry was here to annoy her with interruptions and “Ah ha” moments.

“Excuse me” she said softly to John who was wringing his hands with guilt. She left the room and turned the corner to enter the observation room. 

“He didn’t do it!” Henry stated as soon as she saw him.

“I know, but how can you be sure?”

“Firstly, he is much too short. As I stated earlier, the killer would have needed to be at least a foot taller than Kira, and he may only be taller by a few inches. Secondly we just received the results of a swab I had taken from the bottom of Mr. Rossi’s shoes. Those results show exactly what you might expect given his story. He had a similar mixture to Kira: flour, oil, dirt and of course the fine white heroin we found on Kira’s shoes. We also found residue of more drugs, of different origins and ages, as if he had stepped on a floor littered with various drugs, on and off, over the span of months.”

“That would make sense. He admitted to going down into that room once a month to collect the money.” Jo said.

“And compare that fact to the results from that lone footprint on Kira’s carpet, which Lucas so kindly brought me.” He stated, holding the lab work out for her to see.

“No trace of drugs whatsoever. John could not have been in the apartment.” Jo said. “But Henry, that same flour and oil mixture is in that foot print, which means,” Jo began, looking up at Henry.

“Yes. “ He said with excitement. “Kira’s Murderer also works at the restaurant.”

“But who?” 

“Well we can rule out the women and that leaves us with about half a dozen male employees.”

“Plus we need someone with a motive for murder.” Jo said helplessly.

Henry pondered for a moment, at first as lost for a lead as Jo was, but slowly a light came into his eyes. 

“What are you thinking Henry?” Jo asked.

“Something John said to you, about his interaction with Kira doesn’t make sense. He never mentioned bringing Kira up to his office, only confronting her in the downstairs room and sending her home.”

“Yes, he said he sent her home immediately.” Jo agreed. “But I don’t see,” She began but Henry cut her off.

“Aaron, the Pizza Chef. When I spoke to him told me that he had overheard John yelling at Kira in his office just before she went home.” Henry said.

“But he didn’t, so was Aaron lying? If they were in the downstairs room he couldn’t possibly have over heard them unless,”

“Unless he knew about the room and was eavesdropping. John said they had ways of keeping an eye on him.” He paused for a moment. “But Aaron was working from open to close yesterday, so could he have had enough time to get to Kira’s place, kill her and back again unnoticed?”

“Actually, yes!” Jo said, pulling out one of the papers that she had in her file on the case, which detailed all employees working the day of the murder and there clock in and out times. “Aaron took an hour break, leaving at 2:45 and returning at 3:50. That is within our time of death window and leaving more than enough time for him to make the trip to her place and back.” They gave each other the familiar satisfied grin that they often shared when they worked out a lead in the case.

“Well I think all that coupled with the murder weapon being something akin to a kitchen knife gives us more than enough evidence to call in Mr. Arron, don’t you?”

“Oh yes, I couldn’t agree more.” Said Jo and they rushed from the room with a new suspect in mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, I'm not great at crime writing. I tried to make this believable. Please forgive me if it's terrible.


	6. Chapter 6

Once Aaron was brought into the station everything began to move rather quickly. After a brief interrogation, expertly conducted by Jo and Mike he confessed not only to being a part of the drug ring but to being the one who had told them about the hidden room to begin with. He also confessed to being an inside informant in the restaurant, make sure no one discovered what was happening below the floor boards. He didn’t have to get his hand dirty with the drugs themselves but he was responsible for cleaning up messes if they happened. Kira was a big mess. When he knocked on her door she let him in without a thought, thinking he was a concerned friend. He killed her with his chef’s knife and hid it in his apartment where uniformed officers discovered it. With the promise of a good word for reduced sentencing he gave up contacts to the drug ring and gave the NYPD the means to bring it down.

All of this happened in such a flurry of activity and excitement that when Jo finally felt like she had a moment to breathe the sun was just beginning to rise over the city. Jo was about to sit at her desk now feeling the weight of the paper work she would have to accomplish in order to put this case to rest. Suddenly Henry and Lucas and Mike Hanson approached her desk, quickly followed by Lt. Reece.

“I want to thank you all, from the bottom of my heart for your effort and success in discovering what happened to Kira, and for finding the man responsible.” She looked humbled and close to tears, although she would not allow them to spill. “And what’s more, you gave her death some meaning. She died trying to bring light to that drug ring and because of you we will now have the means to put an end to such a massive operation. It is a huge victory. Because of you she didn’t die in vain. I thank you for that.” They all smiled at her, knowing they would have stopped at nothing to find the answers she needed and thankful that what they did find gave her some closure. 

“Now I think it is time for all of you to go home and rest. Take the rest of the day and tomorrow off, as well. Get some sleep, you deserve it. Don’t worry,” She said as Jo looked back at her desk hesitantly. “All the paperwork will be here waiting for you when you get back.” She gave them one last tired smile and walked away. Henry hoped that she was going home herself, to be with people who could comfort her.

Lucas and Mike both drifted away with exaggerated yawns and they left an awkward silence in their absence. Henry turned to Jo with a hesitant smile. The case was completed. They had just been given a respite from work for the next day and a half. There was nothing stopping them now from picking back up their conversation from yesterday afternoon.   
“Good work today detective.” He said with an attempt at a light hearted air.

“You as well, Doctor.” She replied with an amused smirk followed quickly by a stifled yawn. 

“Lt. Reece is right. We both need some sleep.” He stated stretching his weary shoulders. “But after that… I mean this evening… what I want to say is, would you come to join Abe and I for dinner? He’s making his mother’s lasagna and I promise you do not want to miss out on that.” He was uncharacteristically awkward, obviously nervous about addressing their impending talk, even under the euphemism of a dinner invitation. She hesitated. She wanted answers, needed them, and she wanted them now. Part of her was afraid that if she went home to sleep, if she let time and space separate them now, she would never get the truth. However she felt her bed calling her and knew that she was not in a fit state to hear what he had to say. 

“Ok Henry, I would love that. Seven?”

“Yes, that would be fine.” 

The awkward silence descended again and as he fidgeted with his scarf she knew it was time for her to leave. She began gathering her things.

“Until this evening, then.” Henry said with a little bow.

“Until tonight.” She nodded and their eyes locked for just a moment before he turned and left the precinct.  
_____________________________________________________________________________________  
She opened the door and was greeted by the familiar emptiness that had been her living companion for over a year now. It reminded her just how lucky she was that Henry had come into her life when he did. Before she met him she had been living with a Sean shaped hole in her heart. Granted that hole would always be there, forever. No one person could fill it. But until she had met Henry she hadn’t even entertained the possibility that someone could try, or that they could shape their own, unique space in her heart. Henry had taught her that it was possible for her to experience the world again. She believed there was still more she could learn from him, and maybe a little she could teach him as well. But for now she was exhausted and as she lay her head upon her pillow she thought only of rest. One dream graced her mind as she drifted off to sleep. It was Henry. He was with her, holding her hand. She felt so warm and so at peace in his presence. He looked into her eyes and said, 

“Don’t worry Jo. I am here with you. And I will stay, forever.”

That was all. Her mind succumbed into the deepest level of sleep and she knew nothing else until she woke.


	7. Chapter 7

Dinner had been delicious, as expected, and easy, which was surprising. The conversation was light and entertaining, as if they had nothing more important to discuss than humorous stories of past cases they had worked together or how exactly Abe made the Lasagna so damn good. The elephant was in the room yet its presence was not as ominous as Henry had expected it to be. They enjoyed their meal, good wine and each other’s company, as they had so many times in the past. Why sully it with thoughts of the heavy discussion that they all knew would come in good time. 

Their plates were cleaned and Abe ushered them with wine glasses in hand up to the roof top terrace, urging them to enjoy the beautiful night. Henry knew what he was trying to do, and as much as he hated to leave him alone to clear away the kitchen mess he knew he needed this time with Jo.

The night was beautiful. The sun had only just set and while there was still a hazy orange hue to the West, most of the sky was dark and black. From the roof top you could make out just a few of the brightest stars and Henry made a comment for Jo to witness this miraculous sight as it was one of the only places in New York City that it was visible. She did not respond. He turned to her and saw that she had found a seat on the soft sofa and had removed his long lost photo from her pocket. She slid it slowly across the coffee table to him and said calmly,

“Ok Henry, it’s time. Tell me the rest of your story.” Their gaze locked together for a long moment as he took in a breath to steady himself and his resolve. 

“You know, I was incensed when we were interrupted yesterday. You don’t know how many times I have had this conversation with you in my mind, how many times I had longed to tell you my truth and given up in fear. And to finally have the nerve, albeit not without a strong twist of the arm,” he nodded in her direction. “I could not believe that I would not be allowed to finish once I started. However, I believe now that it was the best thing that could have happened. When you first confronted me with this,” He indicated the photo, “I was beyond flustered. I could barely form a coherent thought let alone find the right words to convey my past to you in any way that did not sound completely deranged.” He paused, keenly aware that it still might. “And I was also given time to observe you, my friend and a strong, willful, no-nonsense detective. I saw you accept the small bit of information I gave and handle it with more grace than I ever could have imagined. I have not the foggiest idea if you will believe what I have to tell you or not, but your attitude toward me over the past two days has bolstered me and reaffirmed my belief that if there was anyone in the world who I could trust with my secret, with my life, it is you.” He sat down opposite her and reached over to hold both her hands in his, gathering all his strength. He looked into her expectant eyes for one more moment and then began to speak.

“I told you the man in that photo is myself and that is the truth, however my story begins long before that photo was taken. My name is Henry Morgan and although, out of necessity, I have had some aliases over the years that is the name I prefer to use, if I can. It is also happens to be the name I was born with…On September 19th…1779.” She gave a sharp intake of breath and he stole a glance at her. He could see the fear returning to her eyes but he continued on, sure that it was best to get out the worst of it quickly. “I have been living on this earth for 235 years. I don’t age and I cannot die. Or rather I can, but I just don’t stay dead, no matter what I do.” He looked into her eyes, silently pleading her to say something, but all he saw was fear.

“That is what I was afraid you were going to say.” She said, her voice quaking and tears brimming in her eyes.

“So you don’t believe me.” He said, heart sinking.

“Henry, it’s impossible!” Her hands were trembling beneath his and he pulled them away, running them through his hair and hanging his head, he didn’t know what else to say.

“It’s impossible.” She said again, almost as if trying to convince herself. “And yet, I do! I do believe you Henry!” He shifted his eyes to look up at her and saw that she was in much the same posture he was, hands through her hair and looking quite concerned that she herself were going mad. “I have been telling myself all day that what you told me couldn’t possibly be true. That there had to be some other explanation. I told myself that once we spoke it would all make sense, but in my heart, somehow I knew! I knew what you were going to say. But how can I believe this? Why do I believe it?” She asked, whether to him or herself or to God he wasn’t sure. He took her hands again and looked straight into her eyes, making her do the same to him.

“You believe it because it’s true, Jo! You believe it because you know me and you know that I am not lying or mad.” His voice had become impassioned and grew louder as he spoke. “I know what you are feeling, what you are struggling with, I do. Believe me I have had two centuries to ponder all the reasons why I should not be alive! I, the level headed, logical Doctor who believes science can explain all, who can find an explanation for everything! Everything, except for my very existence! It’s insane, it’s impossible, but it’s very real!” He stood now taking a few steps away from her. When he turned he was unbuttoning his shirt. She made a small sound of protest but he was already speaking.

“Here!” he said pointing to his scar. “I was shot! The first time I died, I was shot right here.” She had stood up now too and was slowly crossing to him, eyes on his chest and the knotted scar tissue that was visible there. “You have seen this before and I know you wondered then. Wondered how I could have survived such devastation.” She had reached him and slowly, lightly placed her fingertips to the scar. A shiver went through his body at the contact. “I did not survive Jo. I died, only moments after being shot at point blank range by a flintlock pistol, straight to the heart. And nothing, neither God nor modern medicine, could have saved me.” His voice was quieter now. Her close proximity had calmed him and as she looked up into his eyes with something akin to wonder he added, “You are a homicide detective, you have seen enough death to know that what I say is true.” Her eyes were wide and looking only into his. She nodded and he could see it in her eyes, that moment when she succumbed and could not deny it any longer. For better or for worse she believed him.

“You died.” She stated as if saying the facts herself could make them more believable. “But you’re here now. And that was 200 years ago.” He nodded solemnly. He could see a million unsaid thoughts flickering behind her eyes. 

After a moment she backed up and stumbling practically fell onto the sofa. He tried to catch her, worried she might be fainting, but she was already talking when he reached her. “There is more, isn’t there?” He nodded.

“A lot more, but Jo are you sure you want to hear it all now? This might be too much…” She gave a small dry chuckle. 

“No, I don’t think I could handle two hundred years’ worth of the “Life of Henry Morgan”. Not all tonight anyway. But please, tell me what I need to know. You say that you die but don’t stay dead, I need to know what that means, how that works. Tell me what happened yesterday. And tell me… tell me about this, about her.” She said pointing to the photo laying on the table. His eyes fell on Abigail’s face once more and her smile seemed to reassure him, telling him that it would be ok. He sat beside Jo and held the photo before them both.

“This photo was taken shortly after the war. We had just moved to New York.” He paused, allowing himself a brief moment to be swept up in the nostalgia of that time in his life, when love was new and the hope of a normal life, even if only for a little while, seemed finally to be within his grasp. “She was Abraham’s mother. And she was my wife. Jo, this is Abigail, my Abigail.”

He looked at her and saw tears brimming in her eyes and her breath was coming fast. “Oh Henry, I wish I had known! She was your wife! You had to bury your wife and we didn’t even know. I didn’t know!” She threw her arms around his neck and held him in a fierce and loving hug, understanding him as only someone who had lost a spouse could. “I am so sorry Henry. I am so sorry you had to go through that alone. I should have been there for you.” He slowly wrapped his arms around her waist, drawing more comfort from the embrace than he expected.

“Oh Jo I wasn’t alone. I had Abe.” He said into her hair. “We had each other. And you were there for me, even if you didn’t realize it. Don’t you see? I was devastated when Abigail left me, and when I couldn’t find her I gave up hope in love, in life. For thirty years I lived in a world where I trusted no one, let no one in aside from Abe. I was determined never to feel anything for another human again, it had only brought me pain. Once I had given up any hope of finding Abigail my new focus in life was to find a way out of this curse. I began researching death in any way I could, searching desperately for a way to leave this life. The irony is that it was that very search that led me to you, the one person who has taught me to trust again, to feel again.” He knew he was parroting the words she had spoken to him only days early and he prayed that she would understand their depth. He pulled back from their embrace and with his hands on her shoulders and looking into her eyes he said, “Jo I may live forever but our partnership, your friendship, has brought me back from death.”

She looked into his eyes and he could see the tears still brimming from her lids. She slowly wiped them away as they spilled one by one down her cheeks. He wasn’t sure where to go from here. He couldn’t tell if he had revealed too much, but she was still here, still seemed to be willing to listen so he began to tell her details of his life with Abigail: how they met, how they adopted Abe, how she discovered his secret, and why, ultimately, she had left. Jo eagerly took in every word. His heart leapt as he was able to tell her of the part of his life that had, more than all else, made him the man he was. Finally he could claim two of the most important people in his life for who they really were. 

He moved on and began to recount his life since they met, filling her in on some of the mysteries that had surrounded him during the cases they had worked, or when he had died without her knowing. He confessed to her the times when he had lied to her, and begged her forgiveness. He explained about Adam and he could see the fear in her eyes. He assured her that, at least for now, he was no longer a threat.

“And that brings us to yesterday Jo. Your detective intuition was right. I was down in the subway tunnel and I was shot, by Adam. I, I knew you were coming. I heard you calling for me, but I couldn’t… you must have missed me by seconds.”

“How?” She asked with trepidation in her voice. “How could I have missed you, Henry? I don’t understand, where did you go?”

“I died Jo.” He looked at her, feeling oddly embarrassed. “When I die, my body, it disappears. I have been told there is a white light, but for me it’s the same as dying for anyone else, will all the pain and fear and discomfort involved until it’s over. And then I awaken in the nearest body of water, unfortunately naked. Here in New York that tends to be the East river.”   
“Skinny Dipping.” She said with a wry smile as she finally made the connection. Henry did not miss that the smile did not reach her eyes. Something was upsetting her and he could not tell what it was. She looked sad and as she got up to cross over to the terrace ledge he wondered again if he indeed had gone too far; told her too much. He got up to slowly follow her, unsure of how she was feeling or how close he should get. 

“Henry, what you have told me is impossible. No one lives forever. No one can survive what you have. People die and they don’t come back.” She looked so sad when she said this that his heart nearly broke at the sight of her. “And yet,” She turned to look at him, “here you are. And here I am, believing the impossible.” He took a tentative step closer to her but stopped when she added, “But Henry, I am going to need some time. Time to process and to…accept all of this. You dying, you disappearing and returning again, it’s a lot to take in and I just…” She stopped and looked away, and said so quietly he almost couldn’t hear, “It’s a hard lesson to unlearn.”

He took the final step toward her and now they were very close, standing together above the city.

“I understand, believe me I really do.” He gave her a sideway smirk and added, “And I have plenty of time so please take all that you need.” He was hoping to lighten the tension a bit and he succeeded because she gave him a roll of her eyes and a light hearted nudge with her elbow. They were quite for a moment, looking out over the city.

“Jo, if you wanted me to, if you thought it would help,” He swallowed unsure if this was the right thing to say. “I would leap from this ledge right now, you could see it all for yourself. Abe would know what to do,” she cut him off with a hand to his arm and a sudden fear in her eyes. 

“No!” she almost shouted at him, and then regaining herself said more calmly, “No please, Henry. I don’t think I that would be necessary tonight.” A shudder seemed to go through her and he could tell she was trying to banish from her mind’s eye the image of him hitting the concrete below. “Permanent or not I just don’t think I could bare it.” They were both quite for some time when she added with a small smile, “Although it may come to that, at some point.” He looked at her curiously. “Well if your track record is as bad you say I’m not sure how I’ll be able to avoid it forever.” And now she was smirking and playfully punching him in the arm.

A relieved smile came to his face. He knew she still needed time, he knew there would be a thousand more questions to answer but in that small laugh he knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that she believed him, believed in him, and that he had not lost his friend. His heart was so full in that moment, filling him with more happiness than he had felt in over thirty years. He felt so blessed, so very lucky to have this vibrant and caring woman in his life, who would accept him with all his quirks and oddities, not to mention this one overwhelming secret. She was looking quite happy as well and before he had a chance to think another thought she was leaning up to him, her lips brushing his cheek in a quick but pleasant kiss.  
“Thank you Henry. Thank you for sharing this with me and for trusting me.” She said in his ear. He was suddenly very aware of how close they were standing and his cheek seemed to burn where her lips had just been. With a somewhat dazed voice he murmured, 

“Thank you for making me.” 

“Can we make a promise to each other? I know it may seem childish but can we promise, no more secrets? No more lies?” She asked tentatively but with a fierceness in her eyes as if challenging him to say it was indeed childish. He took her hand in his and covered it with his other one.

“Yes Jo, I promise. No more secrets. No more lies. My life is an open book to you now. You know how talkative I can be, and you now being one of my only confidants I dare say you may tire of hearing about my life! I know Abe sure has.” He said with an eye roll and bemused chuckle. She smiled and pulled him in for a hug, holding him tight.

“I know there is still more you have to tell me, and I have so many questions but for now I think it’s time for me to go.”

“I understand.” He said disappointedly, wholly wishing she would stay. “I’ll call you a cab.” She nodded and they exited into the apartment below. 

As he walked her to the front of the Antique shop he was reminded of the previous morning, when she’d knocked on his door, armed with a watch and a photo.

“Detective, I can’t help but wonder, what did you expect me to say? Yesterday, when you approached me with that photo. What did you imagine my answer would be?”

“Honestly, Henry,” she said with a sigh. “I thought I was in for a fight. After everything that had happened in the past few weeks I thought you would dodge or lie or do anything but give me an honest answer, and I wasn’t about to leave without one. I’m really glad I was wrong.” She added with a small smile. He smiled back at her and she walked out of the shop, the door closing with a cheery jingle behind her. 

He watched her enter a cab and continued watching even after the tail lights disappeared down the block into the dark city. His hand now travelled shakily to his cheek, remembering the kiss that she left him, that still seemed to linger there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The end.  
>  I hope you liked it! I have some thoughts for a sequel... we'll see.


End file.
